Midnight in the Park
by Tyrror
Summary: Sequal to "Secret Hearts Revealed" (please read before this to avoid all confusion) When love seems just out of reach, will helping others in turn help her...? (Warning: YaoiYuri)
1. Prelude: Put it in Writing

Disclaimer: I do not own "As told by Ginger" or any part there of. The following story does involve slash (male/male relationships) and possible future Yuri (Female/Female relationships) If you are not comfortable with this in anyway, please turn back now. Otherwise, please enjoy.

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**Midnight in the Park**  
  
Prelude - Put it in WritingDear Diary,  
  
Today has indeed been an interesting day. I woke up at Courtney's house (where I had spent the night) only to find that the alarm had gone off, unnoticed by either one of us, and had thus been turned off by Winston who had not bothered to wake us. (Apparently we looked to "Adorable" cuddled together on Courtney's bed) (Why did he have to say adorable) Anyways, we wasted no time in getting ready because I wanted to be home with enough time to get the house clean before mom gets home, but I couldn't keep myself from staring from time to time as Courtney fussed over getting her hair just perfect after a night of tossing and turning. Once we finally got ready we gathered my things and set them by the front door so that Winston could load them into the limo while we woke the boys. That's where the days big surprise came in.  
  
We were just walking along calmly, having a rather nice session of girl talk when the door to Blake's room just seemed to appear out of no where. I pushed it open gently, trying not to scare them awake if at all possible, but neither of us was ready for what we saw. Lying in Blake's bed were both Carl and Blake, both completely naked with Blake sprawled rather obviously over Carl's bare body. It was no hard guess as to what they had been doing all night, even Courtney figured that out. Unfortunately after the few seconds it took for her to realize what had happened she flipped. I had to drag her away from the door, my hand over her mouth to keep her from attracting any more attention. I finally calmed her down and helped her to accept the idea, but it didn't seem like she much enjoyed the idea of a same sex relationship. Too bad.  
  
Ginger  
  
Looking down at the words she just wrote Ginger allows a single tear to slip from the corner of her eye down her cheek and splash gently against the page of her open journal, shattering to a thousand tiny pieces never to be seen again. With her true emotion now marking the page she closes the small book and returns it to it's proper place, all the while thinking of what could have been.

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And thus the new story is born, or rather continued. Sorry it took so long but I finally got sick of waiting myself and figured I would just finish the story myself. This is only the Prelude, my little way of reminding you what happened all those months ago when the first story ended, so please bear with me, I plan to have an actual chapter up soon. Thanks for reading, please review if you get the chance, I love to hear from the readers, even the flames because it at least lets me know you are reading. Latta.   
  
MK


	2. Falling apart

Chpt. 1 - Falling apart  
  
Ginger lifted her head from where it rest on her arms as she lay sprawled out on her bed. A look of pure confusion flashed across her tear swollen features as, from what seemed a vaugely distant point in space, she heard a sob that was not her own. Making her way from her own room she snuck steadily down the hall toward where she had determinded the source of the noise had come, the room that belonged to her younger sibling. Slipping up against the framework of his doorway she listened carefully, hoping to pick up on a muttered word, a sobbed expression, but the only noise that reached her ears was that of one completely heartbroken. Other than for her breathing it was so silent that she could almost hear the tears of the young boy shatter on the bed cloths beneath him. Stepping through the doorway she was startled to find that not only was he brother seated upon his bed sobbing with emotional disress, but apparently in physical pain as blood drizzled down from his right hand onto the sheets beneath him.

"Carl, what happend..." she asked, sounding far angrier than she had ment to. Quickly changing the tone of her voice she began to speak again, now in the tone of a caring older sister.  
"How did this happen? Did someone hurt you?"

The boys only response was to nod toward the wall opposite him. Stepping into the room further Ginger was again surprised to find that where before there had been a perfectly good wall there now stood a hole, just large enough to hold her sibling's fist. Glancign at him with all the care and concern in the world she attempted to speak, attempted to question, attepmted anything, but the words would simply not come. It mattered not, though, for just when she thought that the situation was becomeing hopeless, the boy spoke of his own accord.

"They took him, " he muttered under his breath, " They found out what he meant to me and they took him from me..." Slowly the boy sank back into himself, sobbing again.

"Who took him, Carl?"

"The Griplings...Blakes parents found out about us and the forbid him to see me...they've got him under lock and key with Winston keeping his eye on him at every moment...Winston's not at all pleased with making Blake of me unhappy, but he has to follow orders or face the threat of...Termination from the household."

It took a moment for everything Carl had just revealed to her to sink in. The parents of her brothers boyfriend had forbidden them to see one another. This was an atrocity and they deserved to be punished for their unfair attitudes more than eiteher of the boys, they only wanted to be happy. The anger rose in her cheeks and flushed her face red. Slowly a look of determination took over he face and her eyes gleamed with a mischeve that even Carl had never seen. He stared in amazement as her lips turned upward slowly, creasing into the ever famous Foutly smirk, and he wondered what could be so increadibly good at a moment like this.

"Don't worry Carl," she spoke with a tone that he thought only he had mastered when talking to those annoying adults he had to evade. "Your big sister will take care of this, you just leave this to the girls..."

With that she wheeled about on one heel and proceeded out of the room with a determined look that Carl had to admit he could never have mustered...

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And there you have the first true chpt. To the sequal that you all have been buggin me about non stop. Please read and reveiw if you would like me to take the time out of my day to put the rest in print. Latta.  
  
MK


	3. Help from Above

Chpt. 2 - Help from above

Charging haphazardly down the staircase Ginger spun around the corner in the hall and landed nimbly in the kitchen, earning her more than just the normal odd, but knowing stare from her mother. Suddenly Ginger's mind raced,

'oh no, what if mom asks me what's going on, what am I gonna tell her, I'm a horrible liar...'

Her thoughts trailed onward, neverceasingly, as she stood in the doorway to the kitchen, seemingly frozen in place. The odd stare on her mothers place faded quickly, only to be replaced by a look of understanding, as if she had complete knowledge of the situation, before she turned back to peeling potatos with the small knife in her hand. Sighing inwardly with releif at the sight that her mother wasn't going to bother her she reached out to grab the phone, the reason she had come down to begin with. Yet she didn't have the chance to even take the phone in her hand before the voice of her mother rang out from across the kitchen for the first time since she had entered.

"Don't you think you should let Carl and Blake work things out on their own? It's never a good idea to get between two people who are fighting, but in love."

Ginger's Jaw seemed to hit the floor with her mother's everyday sounding comment. The way she spoke it made it sound like the boys had been together for years an out in the open the whole time. How could she possibly have know? The words seemed to spill out of her mouth without much thought.

"But...how?...you...them..." She was cut short by the voice of her mother as she yet again turned to face the young red head.

"Ging," She smiled that smile that only a mother can accomplish and shooke her head slightly, "I'm a mom, it's just what I do. Paying attention to you kids lives and making sure you don't get hurt is what I do."

She looked a her daughter with all the love it seemed she could muster and yet again spread her mother's smile across her face. It was only then that Ginger realized her mother error. It was certain that the boys were together and were happy being so, but there was one thing her Lois had cermised that was all to far from the truth.

"Mom," Ginger began gently, "Carl and Blake aren't fighting. Blake's parents have forribiden him to see Carl."

A look of shock registered on Lois' face to match that one her eldest child had given her earlier. It had never occured to her that there was an outside force causeing the trouble between the two boys. Placeing her knife and potato down on the counter she began to calmly wash her hands, or so it appeared. Turning suddenly on Ginger there was no anger in her face, but the resentment could be heard clearly in her voice.

"Keeping them apart are they...How DARE they...I'm gonna go over there right now and give those stuck up bastards a piece of my mind... the day they hurt a child is the day I take off their heads..."

Grabbing her keys, Lois slammed the back door on her way from the kitchen. From inside Ginger could her her mother muttering to herself as she walked around to the car, got in, started the motor, and peeled out of the driveway in search of the Grippling household. Shaking her head in disbelife at what had just happened she remebered suddenly what she had come down for. Picking up the phone and dialing the numbers automatically she began to think.

'Just incase mom's harping doesn't get us anywhere...I'd better have a backup in store...'

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Well, that's all for now, tell me what you think and I'll keep writing, thanx for your loyalty to my cause. Latta

MK


	4. Broken Hands and Broken Hearts

Okay, to start off with, I am sooooooooooooooooooooo sorry about making you all wait so long to continue reading. I'm back in school now so all of my stories are kinda on hold until I find a spare moment, like now. Other than that, please RR.

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, only the plot.

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Chpt. 3 – Broken Hands and Broken Hearts

"Yeah, that's great! Call me back if anything changes but otherwise I'll see you tomorrow..."

The phone conversation ended abruptly, rather the same way it had started only moments before. Placing the receiver back in its cradle on the wall Ginger Foutly turned and began her trek back up the stairs to her room. Reaching the second story landing, the second unknown sound of the day reached her ears.

"Oww....Frick...Oww...Stupid tape..."

Rounding the top of the stairs, Ginger followed her ever useful ears toward the source of this constant stream of painful moans and curses. Reaching the half-open door to the bathroom she could clearly see her younger sibling seated rather unceremoniously upon the toilet, attempting to bandage his now injured hand. After another curse and the removal of what appeared to be his third piece of medical tape Carl finally noticed the presence of his sister as she watched from the doorframe.

"Need some help?"

The statement, which many would have thought to be sarcastic coming from the lips of his older sibling, carried a tone of genuine caring. Not bothering to wait for an answer, Ginger entered the bathroom and moved over to kneel beside her little brother who, as she just now noticed, was still crying. Reaching up and wiping the tears from her sibling's eyes, Ginger speaks softly under her voice in the way that only a caring older sister can.

"It's gonna be okay, I promise, you just wait and see..."

Once again leaving a comment hanging in the evening air, Ginger takes Carl's now rather bloodied hand and, giving it one good look, opens the medical cabinet. Removing a rather large brown bottle and a bag of cotton balls she proceeds to soak a small amount of the liquid in the bottle into the cotton balls. Taking gentle hold of Carl's hand yet again, Ginger begins to clean his wounds, that is until...

"OWWWW!!! What the hell is that stuff?..."

Checking quickly Ginger reassures herself that Carl's scream did not shatter the mirror before responding.

"Hydrogen Peroxide, now sit still or it'll take even longer."

Returning to her work Ginger finishes cleaning the cuts on Carl's hand. There appears to be no really deep cuts, only long, thus producing a lot of blood, but it's nothing that should need stitches. Ginger's looking over of Carl's hand slowly turned into staring as she began to ponder what could possible cause him to punch a wall, how having one person removed from his life could cause him to do something like this. Her thought process was never finished as she was interrupted by her sibling.

"Ginger! If you're going to stare at my hand for any length of time you could at least read my palm or something."

Smiling to herself, glad that her brother seemed to retain his sense of humor even with all that was going on, Ginger grabbed the now mangled roll of medical tape from where her brother had laid it. Trimming off no more than she would need she retrieved a piece of gauze from the medical cabinet and set about the rather intricate task of bandaging a hand while attempting to leave function to it. Once she was satisfied that she had securely covered all of the cuts it was rather clear that it would be impossible for Carl to write properly for at least a few days. Realizing that fact for himself nearly a full minute after her, Carl began to protest.

"How the hell do you think I'm supposed to write with my hand all wrapped up like this?..."

"I don't know, but then again, I'm not the one who hit a wall,"

Ginger retaliated rather smoothly, as she had learned to do over the years of arguing with Carl. Yet unlike their normal squabble, there was no further retaliation from the younger Foutly. Instead Carl hung his head in a way that implied shame, or disgrace and made to slip past her and out the door. Not making it quite as far as he assumed he would though, he soon found his older sister's arm wrapped gently around his shoulders. Turning his head gently so that she could look him directly in his emerald green eyes, Ginger began to speak yet again in a tone that only an older sister could possibly muster.

"Don't worry, things will get better, I promise. You just wait and see, let your big sister handle all the details. You just go along for the ride."

Rather perplexed by his sister's comments, Carl was so caught up in thought that not only could he not seem to formulate a proper response, but he noticed the fact that Ginger had slowly lead him back to his own room. Smiling gently, Ginger pulled back the bedspread and helped, or rather pushed, Carl onto his bed. Wishing him goodnight Ginger turned the lights off and suddenly Carl realized just how much the night had taken out of him. Ginger smiled to herself as she watched her brother quickly drift off into sleep.

'He looks so innocent...When he's sleeping..."

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So, what's going to happen. Maybe you should just keep checking back. I know I'm like totally cruel for making ya'll wait for what may be a very long time until I get the next chpt. Up. But I'm just mean like that. Latta.

MK


	5. Friend In the Darkness

After rereading the latest update to this story I realized that it really didn't help to move the plot along any, just provided more suspense for ya'll. Well, then, so as not to have you mobbing me to finish the story, on with the show...

Disclaimer: I do not own anything connected to the show "As Told By Ginger". The only thing here that is mine is the plot line.

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Chpt. 5 – Friend In the Darkness

Upon seeing her sibling to bed, Ginger retreated to the serenity of the family room. Placing herself on the couch her mind began to drift aimlessly. It was only after many moments of "zoning out" brought on by lack of energy that she was quickly brought back to reality by the sound of the back door slipping shut. Not noticing the puff of red hair situated above the back of the couch, thus designating her daughter's position in the living room, Lois began to make the seemingly endless trek toward her downstairs bedroom, muttering all the while.

"How dare they... Who do they think...? Keeping them..."

Suddenly her voice calmed, as if she had just noticed a saint was listening in. In a rather somber and sorrowful tone, she continued to mutter, not noticing her daughter the whole time.

"They even hurt that poor man...can't stand to see them...Just can't believe..."

Ginger continued to listen as her mother moved sluggishly through the house toward her room. The sound of the door knob being turned and then the latch on said door clicking back into place could easily be picked up in the eerie silence left after Mrs. Foutly's mutterings. The quiet snap caused by the door latching into place not only signaled Louis' entry into her room, but also seemed to signal Ginger's mind to begin its analysis of what it just heard.

'Poor man?... What poor man?... she was in such a huff when she left, what happened over there?'

With that Ginger rose abruptly from her seat on the couch, one swift move to a standing position, and she was off in the general direction of her mother's room. Upon reaching the door she hesitated only momentarily before giving three sharp raps upon the wooden obstruction, sounds that seemed to echo off into the silence of the world around them.

"What is it Ging?"

Lois' voice rang from the other side of that which barricaded her entry into her mother's room.

"How did you know it was me?"

"Do you really think that Carl could manage to sneak down here with out a noise and then politely knock on my door?

The only response she got from the outside of her room was a silent smile. Suddenly, Ginger remembered what she had come for, and her mouth opened to ask the question when suddenly she startled backwards. The door suddenly swung open, revealing Lois' profile against the startling background of a single lamp, giving her an odd, ghost like appearance. Stifling a quick screech from the rather startlingly quick movement of the door opening, Ginger managed to pull herself together, but not quick enough for her mother not to notice. Smiling, Mrs. Foutly beckoned her daughter in to the room with the movement of a single hand, speaking at that same time.

"I didn't scare you, did I?"

The sarcasm in her voice was unmistakable. Ginger only managed to glare at her parental unit entering the room and seating herself upon the bed.

"So, how did things go?"

The question was rather out of the blue, and caught the older woman off guard.

"How did what go?"

"Whatever went on at the Gripplings, you know what..."

"Oh... that... well Ging, it's a long story, so to speak..."

"By long story, you mean rather short but full of things that I won't like to hear, right?"

The look of shock that crossed Lois' face would certainly have been a Kodak moment, should the situation have been any other than this. It was easy to see that Ginger truly was her mother's daughter; no one else could ever have been able to see the truth behind someone else's words as she had just done.

"Yeah, Ging, but I guess you still want to know...well I guess you should know then..."

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Flashback

Lois pulls into the drive of the Grippling residence and follows the long, winding strip of pavement to the front door. Not bothering to worry about parking or any such lot Lois quickly shuts off the vehicle and makes her way up the steps, ringing the bell repeated times until finally the door was answered. Standing before her was a tall man, though not extraordinarily tall, with gray hair, wearing a tux it seemed.

"Hello Madam how may I..."

Looking up his words began to trail off.

"Mrs. Foutly, what a pleasure, it has been quite awhile since last we met."

Winston greeted the woman rather cordially and invited her in, asking what her business was, coming to the Grippling home so late on this eve.

"I've come to speak to Blake's parents."

The sparkle quickly left Winston's eye at this note, but quickly regaining his composure as a butler he stated the facts as if they were irrelevant to him.

"As is well know, Mr. Grippling is rarely home, yet you may speak with Mrs. Grippling should that suit you."

"Thank you, yes, she'll do just fine."

With that Winston made a quick bow and left Mrs. Foutly in the foyer as he left to retrieve Mrs. Grippling. Returning in only moments with the other lady in tow, Winston announced her visitor formally and then stepped off to the side to allow the others to speak.

"HOW DARE YOU..."

The shriek emitted by Lois echoed off marble walls off the large hall, and left the unfinished sentence hanging, but there was no reason to finish, the point had been made.

"How dare I? So you're saying that you approve of this madness."

Mrs. Grippling's formal speech proved to be no match for the common sense reasoning of Mrs. Foutly as the battle wagged on between the two.

"Since when is it madness to be on your child's side, to want the one's you love to be happy, since when is it madness to have a heart?..."

The color of Mrs. Grippling's face only showed her anger as it turned from slight pink towards the beginning of this last retaliation to complete scarlet at the end.

"You have no right to step foot on my property and harass me as such, Winston, remove this trespasser."

With that the blonde turned to strut away in a huff. Winston removed himself from hiding around the corner, a frown clearly evident on his face. Silently he motioned that they should begin to move toward the door. As they walked, he spoke softly.

"I'm very sorry for my mistress's reactions to you, she has been rather upset lately with current situations. It has rather upset each of us, thought for different reasons I'm sure..."

His voice trailed off as he went into what appeared to be a silent stream of thought. Glancing over at him Lois saw the sadden look that his face contorted into, the man seemed more distressed over the situation that she herself was.

"If only there were something I could do..."

She heard him mutter to himself. As they reached the door he opened the door for her as the gentleman he is, and offered to see her out to her car. She declined, her car being so near to the house, but did turn around to give him a hearty handshake goodbye. It seemed that she had found a friendly face in an otherwise unfriendly environment. Bidding her farewell Lois went to leave when she paused as something caught her eye. Off in the distance, hidden behind a staircase, it seemed she had seen a head of platinum blonde hair, and two stunning blue eyes.

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End Flashback

Looking her daughter in the face, a moment of understanding passed between the two and nothing really needed to be said. Finally Ginger spoke.

"Well, as you said earlier, I'm sure they will work it all out..."

With that Ginger stood and abruptly left the room, leaving her mother wondering at the sudden calmness that Ginger displayed.

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Back at the Grippling Household

Courtney lay sprawled out on her bed, surrounded in a world of foe-fur and pink. It was obvious that she was scheming, but what was running through her mind it is doubted that any man or woman would ever be able to decipher what goes on there. Rising suddenly she made her way toward the door. Wandering what seemed to be aimlessly through the halls of Grippling Manor she eventually found her self in the main hall of the manor. Just loud enough for it to echo throughout the halls Courtney calls out.

"Winston...I must request a favor of you..."

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Well, that's all for now, folks. Please read and review, I do so enjoy your words of encouragement and corrective criticism. Flames just cause me to laugh like the mad man I am so unless you are attempting to give me a good time I would avoid them. Thanks for reading thus far. Until latta.

MK


	6. Breakfast of Tears

Authors Note: Sorry it has taken me sooooooooo very long to update this story. To tell you the truth I was beginning to doubt I would ever find reason to update it again, for you see I had lost my muse. I have had no one mention my story in months and had basically put it on permanent retirement, yet due to the reviews of one very kind girl, who managed to read this whole story so far in less than 2 days, my writer's spirit, which had gone dry, is now rekindled. I also read a few of her wonderfully written stories to give myself the inspiration to create this chapter which will better lead to the ultimate end I have planned for this segment of the series. So, to stop my rambling I end with this.

This one's for you Dracori thank you for you're kind words of encouragement, and I hope the length better suits you.

Disclaimer: I do not own "As Told by Ginger" or any part thereof, please do not hurt me.

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**Chpt. 6 – Breakfast of Tears**

Blinking as light filtered through the curtains, auburn hair was brushed out of view rather clumsily by a bandaged hand. Startling upright Carl Foutly looked down upon his now well wrapped appendage and wondered at why it appeared as it did. Recognition crossed his face as the event of the past two days sunk back into his conscious mind. The annoyance, the love, the passion, the torture, it all came rushing back like the lighting to metal, and then there were tears. It's not like he had never been without Blake before, in fact, he normally rejoiced at the absence of his one true rival. Yet in only two days his entire reality was flipped on its head, leaving a middle school boy to wonder why love has to hurt so much.

Finally regaining some of his ever-waning composure, Carl made his way down the staircase toward the kitchen. Only upon reaching the main floor of the household did Carl even become aware of the fact that he was still wearing the cloths he had on yesterday, wrinkled and disheveled from his troubled sleep. Entering the kitchen, Carl found his mother in her usual position above the sink washing the dishes she had just used to make breakfast.

"Did you sleep well?"

The question from his mother caught Carl off guard, and caused him to pause, if only just slightly. The voice that carried the tone was obviously that of a mother, yet it seemed worried, it seemed like there was something more…

"Yeah, just fine"

His voice was dull and lacking emotion, maybe she wouldn't notice, but already she seemed to know more than she should. It almost seemed as if she were hiding something.

"Carl…"

Here it comes,

"I know about you and Blake..."

Carl's jaw drops in amazement. That was definantly the last thing he had expected to hear form his mother, but how could she know, he never said anything, and despite their constant quarreling he knew Ginger would do the same, unless…

"…and I'm sorry for everything that's happened."

Lois finished her sentence and it was as if the world had suddenly crashed in. Darting across the room Carl wrapped his small arms around his mother's waist and proceeded to bury his now tear streaked face into her apron. Holding him gently, Lois ran her fingers through her little boy's hair as she proceeded to utter small reassurances and comforting words that only he would ever hear. As Carl once again regained his composure he looked up towards the loving eyes of his mother and smiled.

"Thanks…"

"No thanks necessary kiddo, now why don't you go upstairs and put on some decent cloths. Hoodsy called and should be over any time now."

Suddenly it hit Carl, today was Sunday. He normally loved Sundays because they are the day before Monday which meant that they were also the allotted time of the week for Hoodsy and himself to get together and plot their weekly pranks. Bidding his mother goodbye he proceed to grab a piece of toast and return to the room from whence he came, all the while temporarily placing the back of his mind all that had happened with Blake.

As he exited the kitchen he nearly plowed over the now yawning form of his older sister who had just entered the room clad in a nightgown. Muttering his apologies he sped from the room.

"How long were you there Ging?"

"Long enough…"

and with that being said, the phone rang…

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40 minutes later inside the doghouse

Cramped into the clubhouse situated in the Foutly's back yard, Carl and Hoodsy begin their weekly planning session. Falling into his weekly routine Carl is allowed to momentarily forget about all the troubles of the world that is his and revolve solely about causing havoc to the worlds of others. That is, until…

"So what should we plan of old 'goody Gripling' this week"

Carl's eyes go suddenly dark at the mention of the one who has been so unfairly torn away from him. Glancing down at his crossed legs Carl's silence begins to worry his long-time best friend.

"Yo, Carl, what's up man?..."

Carl's ever persistent silence makes him nearly impossible to read, even to one so close to him as Hoodsy. Tilting his head even further forward, Carl's bangs fall in front of his face, casting a shadow upon all from the chin up. Unexpectedly a single tear falls from said chin to shatter into a thousand liquid shards upon the floor below.

"That's it, what's wrong, I'm your best friend, out of all the people in the world I think I have the right to know what goes on inside…"

His words are cut short by the sudden outburst from the other.

"YOU WOULDN'T UNDERSTAND…"

With a flash of movement Carl is gone as he storms from the doghouse and, sobbing, makes his way into the back door of his true home. Stumbling, confused, from the clubhouse, Hoodsy follows to the back door and, opening with caution, finds only Ginger seated at the kitchen table, now clad in caprices and a pink tank-top that says "princess"

"Does someone want to tell me what's going on with Carl? …"

Ginger looks down at the drink she's holding then back up before motioning to the seat next to her. As Hoodsy climbs up onto the chair Ginger begins what will certainly be a long tale.

"How do I say this Hoodsy…Carl's…in love…"

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Just a reminder to all of my like 3 devoted fans, I am still in school and am currently taking time out of my sleep time to write this, please do not be mad if it take a good while for the next chapter. (You can help the chapters to come faster by encouraging me with reviews, they make me happy) until latta.

MK


	7. Hoodsie's Retaliation

I'm sorry if this chapter seems really odd, but whatever I am about to write is influenced by the fact that I'm exhausted, but still in a writing mood. With that said, I begin…

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Chpt. 7 – Hoodsie's Retaliation

It was like he had just become the main character in a soap opera. Hoodsie sat and listened as Ginger attempted to explain everything that had happened to his best friend in the past two days, but none of it was making sense. How could all of this be happening so fast?

"Hoodsie are you even listening to me anymore?"

Suddenly Ginger's voice broke through his clouded thought processes and he glanced with a glazed look at her. She sighed audibly and leaned forward, staring into the liquid in her glace which, now placid, showed a rather stunning reflection of her left eye. The silence between them seemed unbearable to Hoodsie, yet it also seemed that there was nothing he could say, nothing he could do, there was just nothing left for him here. A wave of sadness began to creep over his being that he couldn't quite place, or maybe it was that he didn't want to place it, whatever it was, he didn't like it and quickly forced it back down from whence it came. Eventually Ginger looked away from her glass and back at him.

"I know this is hard Hoodsie, it will be for all of us, but we've got to do what we can to help, you know what I mean?"

She was right, this was hard, and none of it made sense, but he wasn't going to let something like this come between him and his best friend in the whole wide world. Slowly, and with a rather annoying screech of wooden chair legs against kitchen floor tiles, Hoodsie pushed his chair away from the table and nodded his head.

"I'm going to go talk to him."

It was obvious that he didn't have to say anymore. Ginger replied only with a curt nod, before returning her attention to the juice in front of her. Her mind seemed to be wandering somewhere between thoughts of the present and some other time that Hoodsie couldn't quite determine. This was definitely one of those moments that he wished he could read minds, but there were more important matters at hand. With a final decision, Hoodsie stood and quickly made his way across the kitchen toward the arched hall leading to the living room and the stairs. As he began to ascend said stairs, he heard the familiar ring of the Foutley's phone, and the sound of wood against tile again, leading him to believe that Ginger had rose to the occasion.

The walk to Carl's room wasn't all that long, yet it seemed like eternity for the poor boy who had no clue what he was going to say, or how Carl would react. Each step felt like he was wearing lead shoes, and it was only a moment of time before he collapsed of exhaustion on the Foutley's staircase, but that moment never came. Instead, Hoodsie reached Carl's room much sooner than expected in the warped reality that was now his mind, and tentatively he reached out to touch the door. It was unlocked. Gathering his nerves about him, Hoodsie turned the knob fully and pushed the door open just enough for him to slip through. Closing the door behind him, there was a resounding "click" in the silence that was now Carl's room, and on the other side of the room, huddled in a ball in the corner was Carl himself.

Hoodsie had been in Carl's room plenty of times before, but something about this time seemed to prick that sense in Hoodsie's mind that everyone thinks they have but can't seem to use it unless it wants to be used. That sense that causes the hairs on the back of a person's neck to stand up because someone is behind them. It was that sense that caused Hoodsie to give the room a once over like he had never done before. The room seemed to be in even more disarray than normal. Certainly Carl was messy, but where the rest of the world saw disorganization, Carl knew where everything was, and so did Hoodsie. Yet now nothing seemed to be in any sort of order. Then it hit him, the wall at the foot of the bed had a hole in it, a rather large hole, just big enough for…

"What do you want?"

The cracked, dry sounding voice of the boy across the room held a tone of malice, but all the same seemed incredibly pitiful to Hoodsie. Carl had not even raised his head to speak, rather he had muttered the sentence into his crooked knees, on which he rested his forehead. His hair looked as if he had run his fingers through it a thousand times or more in the past fifteen minutes, but at least he had stopped crying, that was a good sign, right? Hoping for the best, Hoodsie shifted from one foot to the other while he spoke.

"I…I want to help, why won't you talk to me?"

"I told you, you wouldn't understand."

The retaliation was cold, but held a hint of surprise. Along with that, it had seemed to Hoodsie that Carl had looked up, if only for a second, at the sound of his voice. It was then that Hoodsie started to piece together more than he had already seen.

"You didn't think it would be me, did you?"

There was a long pause from the other end, before a slight croak was heard, indicating that Carl had attempted to say something, but his dry throat would not allow it. On a second try though, he managed out one word.

"No."

"Carl, Ginger told me what happened."

With that Carl's head shot up, a look crossed his face like that of a small animal caught in the path of a speeding car, and he glanced from side to side in an instant, as if looking for where to run. Seeing no escape, Carl made to say something, but Hoodsie calmly held up one hand to silence him.

"Do you really think that something like that would matter to me? I'm your best friend Carl; at least I thought I was…"

The last part of Hoodsie's comment seemed to come out as more of a whisper, a comment-to-self, rather than meant for the ears of other humans. Yet there was no doubt that Carl had heard it, and the questioning look on his face only confirmed it.

"What do you mean?"

Carl's voice was still cracked and dry, but somehow he had managed to squeak out a question for his friend to answer for once, and at that, all hell broke loose. It seemed as if something inside Hoodsie finally broke. The feeling that he had felt back in the kitchen rose up again, but with renowned strength, and forced its way out. Hoodsie's mind seemed to reel between thoughts of sorrow, of rage, and of pure pity, but for whom he was not sure.

"What do I mean? I mean the fact that in one weekend you've managed to replace me, and with who, no one else but your worst enemy. Do I really mean that little to you anymore? So little that you can just toss me aside when you're done with me?"

The words that Hoodsie spoke came from some place inside of him that he had not known until that point, but everything he said made sense in his mind, even if it didn't in the minds of any other. He felt a tear trickle down his face and drip from the end of his chin, which only caused him to reach back and pull his namesake tight around his head, hoping to hide in the shadows. Suddenly he became aware of the heart breaking sob from the other side of the room, and the mutterings that were just barely audible.

"I'm sorry Hoods…I never meant to replace you…I don't know what's going on…It hurts so much…I don't know…what…"

A racking sob overtook the smaller boy's frame and, without thinking, Hoodsie rushed to his side, and that was all it took. The quarrel hadn't even lasted five minutes, until Carl lay weeping into his best friend's shoulder, muttering about how much it hurts and how little he knows. Slowly Hoodsie wrapped his arms around his friend, feeling rather awkward, but knowing that he could help Carl in any way was enough for Hoodsie. The sobs eventually began to recede, and then stopped all together. Sniffles came and went, and then there was steady breathing, and Carl was asleep.

* * *

Well, that chapter didn't seem to have much to do with the whole plot too much, but it was fun, and there are a good few hints in there about things to come, if you can spot them, so I will leave you for now. Latta.

MK


	8. The Third Cog

Chpt. 8 – The Third Cog

It took the better part of a long ten minutes before Hoodsie had managed to maneuver Carl across the room and into his bed while not waking him up in the process. Utterly exhausted by this feat, Hoodsie wearily pulled the comforter up around his friend's now sleeping form and stepped back to review his handiwork. Other than the fact that his eyes, even while shut, were puffy and swollen, and that his hair was matted pitifully onto his head, Hoodsie had to admit that he did a pretty good job. For the first time in numerous days, Carl looked as though he had found peace.

Hoodsie slipped silently out the door and shut it behind him with only the faint, "click" of the latch to bid him farewell. Planning to sneak quietly from the house so as not to cause any more chaos, Hoodsie made his way towards the stairwell. He lowered himself down the stairs one by one, being sure to skip the squeaky stair halfway down, and eventually made it to the first floor landing unnoticed, or so he thought. As Hoodsie took the first of the ten steps required to cross the living room and exit the house, he felt his namesake get yanked back, along with the rest of his body.

Spinning to face his assailant, Hoodsie came face to the read haired, freckle faced sibling of his best friend.

"Ginger, what do you think you're doing? Trying to choke me or something?"

Hoodsie's hands worked absentmindedly at loosening the collar from his shirt that had been so unceremoniously wrenched back. Before him stood Ginger, with a smug expression on her face and a glimmer of mischief in her eyes.

"I have a proposition for you." Ginger stated flatly.

Hoodsie raised an eyebrow in suspicion of what she would say next, but she neither spoke nor indicated that she planned on doing so in the near future. Eventually a rather annoyed Hoodsie spat out thickly,

"And what would that be oh great and mighty Ginger."

The sarcasm on his voice was much more than he had intended, but something in the back of his mind was very annoyed at being stopped in such a dishonoring way only to play games with the Cheshire Cat of Lucky Senior High. Ginger's face finally split into a sort of cross between a smirk and a grin before her lips parted to speak.

"I'm going to assume that you now know the full extent of everything that has occurred in the past few days beyond just what I told you in the kitchen."

Hoodsie gave a curt nod to confirm that he did, as well as assure her that he was still listening despite the look of malice he held on his features.

"Then I'm also going to assume that you are willing to help in any way to get the two of them back together as soon as possible, correct?"

Once again Hoodsie merely replied with a simple nod.

"Good…well…While you were upstairs with my brother, I received a phone call informing me that plans are already in motion for such an outcome, the thing is that we will need inside help."

The word "we" managed to stick out in Hoodsie's mind and he opened his mouth to question who else was involved when he was suddenly cut off by Ginger as she continued to speak.

"Don't bother asking any questions, the less you know at this point the better off you are likely to be in the long run. Anyway, back to the plan. In order for us to pull this off without a hitch, we will need you to assist us."

"And what kind of assistance are you insinuating exactly." A hint of skepticism was obvious in Hoodsie's voice as he questioned his elder.

"For now, Hoodsie, what you need to do is quite simple. All you need to do is act yourself."

A puzzled look crossed Hoodsie's face but he was not able to snake in a question as Ginger continued without stopping.

"By 'act yourself' I mean act as you would have before any of this had happened. I need you to be a total jerk to Blake. Treat him just as you would have before any of this had happened. Yet at the same time I need you to be sure that whatever you do does not upset Carl. Do you understand what I'm asking?"

Hoodsie's head bobbed up and down, causing him to oddly resembled one of those little figurines people put on their dash boards.

"Yah, but it seems really simple, and rather pointless. Why would that be part of a plan?"

Ginger's grin returned full force at this question.

"I told you not to ask any questions, but I guess I can answer this one. The reason we need you to act so 'simple' as you put it, is indeed relatively simple when you look at it properly. We want it to look as if nothing is going on."

With that, Ginger winked slyly at Hoodsie and bowed her head slightly as if indicating a certain amount of respect for the younger boy. For some odd reason, Hoodsie smiled at the red haired girl and returned the head bow. With that Ginger spun neatly on one heel before walking back down the hallway from which she had snuck up on Hoodsie.

Once again Hoodsie was left alone in the Foutly household. As if nothing had happened, he made his way toward the front door, hoping to finally make it to the outside world. Yet his plans would soon prove futile, as he was stopped yet again, only this time in a much kinder manner.

"Hoods…"

Lois' voice rang clearly from the kitchen where she now sat at the table that had earlier occupied both himself and Ginger. She held a large glass of what he assumed to be orange juice before her, yet it had an odd tint to it. Her voice though, sounded smooth and calm and left him with no reason to be alarmed.

"How'd everything go?"

It was obvious what she meant. She was asking how things had gone upstairs with Carl, but due to his recent, and rather confusing, run in with the eldest Foutly child, Hoodsie was still rather in a daze and all he could manage was, "Good."

"That's good, what's Carl up to now?"

Finally coming out of his stupor, Hoodsie managed to intelligibly answer this question.

"He's asleep."

"That's probably for the best. You know Hoods, he's really gonna need you now."

Lois' words hit him slightly harder than she had most likely expected them to and Hoodsie's face twisted to show the sudden though processes as he realized the truth behind them. No matter what happened, he would leave his friend alone. Not now, not ever.

"Yah, I guess your right."

Hoodsie's voice trailed off as he accepted the fact out loud before turning back around and making a long overdue exit through the front door of the Foutly household.

* * *

A/N: Sorry about how long it took me to get this back up, but a lot of things have happened lately and I just couldn't seem to make myself do anything worthwhile. I hope that you all enjoyed this segment and I also hope to have the next one up much sooner. Latta.

MK


	9. A Day to Remember

Chpt. 9 – A Day to Remeber

Carl Foutly lay somewhere between the lands of sleep and awake, uncertain as to whether he should bother trying to stay conscious or just continue to lie there, doing nothing forever. His mind drifted in and out, bouncing around thought of the last two days and wondering if love truly was worth all the pain. He wasn't quite sure really how it happened, how in a manner of two days he had gone from mortal enemies to lovers, but that really didn't matter to him anymore. No matter how hard he thought about it, everything just seemed more and more confusing to the junior high school student. He was so young and, supposedly, so innocent, he shouldn't have to deal with things like love yet. There was no way for him to understand what was going on in his head and in his heart and because of that all Carl seemed able to do was role over to face the wall as a single tear ran down across his face to soak into the material of the pillow he clung to for dear life. Under his breath Carl muttered to what appeared to be the wall,

"Why me?"

Then with a lurch that would have surprised even a psychic, Carl jumped from his bed, dragging the covers with him and stared towards the ceiling for only a second before screaming,

"WHY ME?"

The words hung on the air with a force strong enough to rip the wings off of an angel, followed by an uncomfortable silence. Left with no response, Carl fell to the floor amid the mass of blankets he had pulled up with him and proceeded to cry softly to himself.

* * *

Downstairs, Lois Foutly jumped as her son's words reverberated through the wooden beams of the house and carried as far as the kitchen, 'and probably down the block,' she thought to herself. Wincing slightly as pain shot through her hand, she realized that when she had jolted from her Carl's scream she had also managed to slice open one of her fingers with the knife she was using to cut vegetables. Dropping the now finely deiced carrots in with the roast that sat on the center rack of the oven, Lois closed the door to the oven and made her way across the kitchen and into the nearby bathroom in search of a band-aid.

As she walked, Lois thought through all the events of the day. Finally she came to the sudden realization that, while Carl had quite obviously been in his room all day, Ginger had been no where in sight. The day was too hot for her to go anywhere, besides, Ginger would never leave without permission.

The bandage was retrieved quickly and did its job well as Lois returned to the world to find that her oldest child had decided to return from hiding and was sitting patiently at the table, waiting on dinner. A questioning look crossed Lois' face as the two females locked eyes, but only remained there for a second, causing Ginger to wonder whether she imagined it.

"I guess it's just the two of us tonight, Ging."

The statement was made rather easily as if it had been an expected thing, but Ginger could hear the hurt in her mother's voice and attempted to hide her own pain at the situation behind a mask of conversation.

"Yah, at least this time I won't have to worry about vomiting because of whatever Carl decides is his monster creation of the night."

The grin that played across Lois' face told Ginger that her ploy to make her mother even a bit happier had worked, if only for the second, but what she hadn't expected was a question directed at her.

"So Ging, what have you been up to all day?"

Caught so off guard by her mother's sudden prodding, Ginger nearly fell out of her seat, but attempted to cover the sudden drop of cool by pretending to pick up an "accidentally" fallen fork. Once the fork had been retrieved, along with Ginger's composure, she replied in a cool manner,

"Nothing much, just this and that."

The answer was an obvious cover up for something, but Ginger knew that she wasn't the best of liars and she also knew that her mother would see past it anyway. The point was that she hoped her mother would realize the need for privacy and drop the subject.

"Now what's this? You can't even talk to your old Mom anymore?"

Ginger had hoped wrong. What would she say now, she didn't want to give too much away, that might compromise everything, but then again, she never could lie to her mother. Ginger hated being caught in moments like this. Her thought processes were interrupted by her mother, though, before she could think it all through.

"You think I don't know what's going on Ging? I'm not one of those moms who don't pay attention to what's going on. I know what you're up to, and I want a part of the action…"

Lois' words seemed to hover somewhere in front of Ginger as if she should inspect them for a lie, but she could find none. Slowly the truth of the situation sunk into Ginger's mind and a smirk made its way across Ginger's lips, which was matched perfectly by those of her mother. Chatter quickly filled the kitchen, though kept to a volume that any eavesdropper would find it hard to listen in, and it was only late in the evening when it was decided that bed was for the best right now. Thus a twin headed operation gained some "outside" help.

* * *

The night passed slowly at the Foutly household. Outside the weather was unbearably hot and only cooling at a rate that seemed far too slow, but inside the world just seemed dark and woeful. While there were no more outbursts from Carl's room, there was also little indication at all that he was still alive. The one thing that led Ginger to believe that the boy was still breathing were the faint, and rather pitiful, whimpers that emanated from the wall which separated their two rooms. Eventually the girl fell asleep and was awakened, far too early in her mind, for the day at school.

The morning seemed to go by just as slowly as the day had. Prying herself out of bed, Ginger began to sort through her drawers in search of a suitable outfit for school at about the same time her mother decided to pass by her door. A loud pounding was heard, accompanied by her grumbly morning voice.

"Ging, time to get up!"

"I'm up mom!"

Ginger's response sounded much more annoyed that she actually was, and it was all just as she wanted it to be.

'One week,' she thought to herself, smiling, 'just one…'

* * *

Downstairs, Ginger was surprised to find her younger sibling dressed, though not necessarily ready for school. His red hair stuck out in every direction imaginable as long as it didn't seem to look natural and his eyes made it rather obvious that he had done more crying that sleeping during the night. It took no more than a look at her brother, who sat looking shot down staring into a glass of orange juice, and another at her mother, who did the dishes as if they had done her a personal wrong, for Ginger to realize that Carl had tried to weasel his way out of school for reasons of "emotional duress." Feeling a sudden twinge of pain in relation to her brother's position, Ginger made to give him a hug from behind, yet was surprised as he stood before she could complete the motion and made to leave the room. She couldn't blame him for being upset, she would be too in his situation, but still, that was rude.

The drive to school was long and quiet, sort of to be expected after such a weekend, yet it still brought about an uncomfortable silence that Ginger was not happy with in the least. As the three redheads pulled up in front of Lucky Junior High, Ginger proceeded to get out of the car along with her sibling, which surprised both her mother and Carl. She grinned as she walked over to Carl and, in the most soothing voice she could muster, said,

"You're gonna be fine, trust me, once all this blows over everything will be just fine."

With that she kissed her brother lightly on the forehead, making him grin in spite of his feelings for public affection. Once again she smiled down at him before getting back in the car and driving off with her mother. Carl looked up at the doors of his school, which suddenly seemed so much bigger than life, and thought to himself how much things had changed. The clock struck seven and the doors opened. As the whole of the school swarmed toward the now open doors, not one of them realized that the whole world changed over the weekend.

The day proceeded as normal for the majority of the morning. Classes were utterly boring and Carl, though he portrays the delinquent, knew most of what he was supposedly being taught. As the day continued by in its slow crawl, Carl began to tune it out, fading in to his own world and hope that the real one would just go away. The world truly would have been nothing more than a vague memory for Carl, had it not been for the fact that partway through the day he had a class with the one person who could make or break the day for the young boy.

As Carl entered into the math room, the first thing that he notice was the man standing at the back of the room, his suit was emasculate and his eyes were downcast. Winston. Carl knew how Blake's mother had taken the whole situation, but this was a bit much. She had sent a chaperone? As Carl moved further into the room he saw him. The platinum blonde head was obvious among all the others, at least to Carl. There was a flash of hope, a flash that would have blinded the room had it been real light, but that faded as fast as it came when the blonde looked up. Blake's face was hard and his blue eyes were like ice as the fell on Carl. There was no sorrow, if anything there was hate, and it was too much for Carl to take. He turned silently on one heel and made to leave the room but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Looking back, Carl saw the kind face of his best friend hovering over his shoulder. A wink passed from the larger boy that was so fast it might have been missed had Carl not been looking so quickly.

"Don't worry about that ass, Carl, I'll make sure he knows where his place is and doesn't leave it anytime soon."

The look of confusion that crossed Carl's face almost caused him to laugh, but instead he just blindly followed his friend back into the room. It took him a moment to realize that Hoodsie's comment had been relatively loud for what was needed to talk to him, almost as if he wanted the room to hear him, but Carl didn't have time to think on it. He hated math, and this was the one class where he had to think about what he was doing.

The class ended without incident and Winston made quick work to escort his master out of the room. This destroyed any hope that Carl may have had to talk to Blake. Considering that it was the last class of the day, Carl made the trip to his locker relatively blindly, not even realizing where his feet were taking him until he was gone. Things were happening to fast, and not just normal things, but weird things.

'What was Ginger up to?'

'Why is Hoodsie acting so weird?'

'Why won't Blake even look at me?'

So many questions blundered through Carl's mind that they blocked off all his other senses and it was only after his name was yelled that he realized there was a small girl next to him. He didn't know her by name, but he knew her from the fact that she was in his math class and she sat right next to Blake. The only reason that even registered in his mind is because some of their backfired plans had unwittingly involved her when they were originally aimed for Blake. As he looked at her now he realized that she was much shorter up close than she was from across the room. She stood nearly a head shorter than him, with her long, curly, blonde hair trailing down well past her mid-back. The recollection came to him in a burst that, the entire time she had been there, she had been holding a piece of paper in front of his nose. As he reached for it she finally sighed in relief.

"I don't know what world you were in, but it looks like you finally woke up. Blake asked me to give this to you."

With that, she walked off. Opening the paper, Carl finds a quickly scrawled note that, by the handwriting, Carl can obviously tell was meant to be hidden from prying eyes.

'Carl,

Don't mind Winston. He's on our side. Pretend like nothing happened this weekend. Will be fixed soon.

Love Blake'

* * *

A/N: And now I torture you all by leaving it at that. MWAHAHAHA…I know I'm evil. Leave me reviews and I may update soon. Devilish Grin

MK


	10. A Father's Hand

Disclaimer: I do not own "As Told By Ginger" or any of the characters other than Damian, who is fully of my own doing. I do not claim to own any of this and am only writing this story for non-profit fun.

Warning: This story contains homosexual relationships; if this is not up your ally, turn back now. You have been warned.

* * *

Chpt. 10 – A Father's Hand 

With numb hands, Carl Foutley folded the piece of paper in his hands and placed it in his right front pocket before turning his blind eyes to his locker. The combination on the lock "whizzed" from point to point almost as fast as Carl's mind tried to make sense of things. This morning he had thought the world was coming to an end, and it looked like that was still the most likely probability, but now there was help behind enemy lines.

'Winston's on our side.'

The words were scrawled and barely readable, but they left no doubt what the sides were and the risk he placed himself at. The last number clicked into place on the lock and Carl, not truly in control of his body at the present time, flung the door open with more force than was necessary only to hear a loud "thunk" and a distant groan, only it wasn't so distant. As the metal door to the locker bounced back from it's obvious collision with something, a purple hooded figure was revealed and seemed to be holding his head. It took Carl all of five seconds to realize what had happened before the words came tumbling out of his mouth.

"Hoodsie, I'm so sorry…I didn't mean to…"

A hand was suddenly clamped with a death grip over Carl's mouth.

"If you were mad at me you could have just said so."

The words were lighthearted and anyone would have quickly recognized that, while Hoodsie was in a good deal of pain, he was not angry about the incident.

"If I let go of your mouth do you promise to not try and make the headache worse again?"

He used his free hand to point to his ears and then gave the signal for "Tone it down." Carl nodded rather solemnly and, upon the release of his face from Hoodise's palm quickly muttered "sorry." Hoodsie stood by silently as Carl gathered the things from his locker and picked at a bit of peeling paint while he waited. Finally the last book slid into Carl's bag and he slung it over one shoulder while the sound of metal clanging echoed down the hall from his locker being slammed shut. Rubbing the lump on the side of his head, Hoodsie thought that he'd never look at a locker the same again.

Outside the air was crisp, not cold, but crisp, just as it should be at the beginning of the Fall. Carl tightened the left strap on his book-bag, the only one he wore, and Hoodsie unconsciously pulled his hood tighter over his face in the lee of sunlight. The leaves were just tinged with red and orange, and for just a second Carl thought that maybe the world wasn't so bad. But then he remembered everything that was going on. He stopped walking without warning, looking at his shoes, one of which was about to come untied. On the toe of his left shoe was a scuffmark that he had obtained when running off school grounds after one of the pranks set by he and Hoodsie had backfired and they were caught. He tried to let that consume all of his thoughts. Ahead of him, Hoodsie finally came to a stop as well. He didn't turn or even make any sort of indication that he was speaking to anyone in particular, but the words were enough.

"Don't…forcing it out won't help, just let it go on it's own…slam my head in a locker again if it helps, but don't force it…"

Carl looked up from his shoe, at the back of his best friends head, and something inside him reminded him to be grateful that it's not all bad.

* * *

The days had passed like a very slow, very numb hell for Carl Foutley. As the week progressed, each day brought him new hope of a better world, and each day was the cause of new-shattered hope. He hadn't spoken to Blake at all. Everyday was the same, Winston stood in the back of the class, hovering over Blake like a mother hawk over her children, and Blake only sent him angry glares. Hoodsie seemed dead set on not even acting like anything had happened, and rather tried his best to insult Blake almost more than would have been normal beforehand. 

At home, things proceeded, as they normally would have, although Carl was beginning to think that there was a lot of talking when he left the room, but considering he was never in the room when it happened, he couldn't be sure. This afternoon was different though. It was just after school on Wednesday and Carl had basically been forced by Ginger to meet her outside the high school when he got out. He made the trip rather slowly, hoping that if he was late enough Ginger might give up on whatever stunt she had planned. Rounding the last corner he knew that his plan hadn't worked when he saw Ginger jump up from the front steps of the school and a grin like the Cheshire cat cross her face.

She took his hand as he neared and began to lead him around the school in a direction that he had never been, and probably would never remember, until they somehow emerged onto the blacktop courtyard out back. Seated across the blacktop, on top of a picnic table, was an Indian boy that Carl had never seen before. His mop of deep chocolate brown hair fell down around his ears and was a deep contrast to the glistening bronze of his skin. His eyes were closed, and his head bowed slightly, tilted toward his crossed legs. At first Carl thought that the boy held something in his lap, but it was only after a few moments that he realize the boy merely had his hands placed in an odd manner, fingertips pressed together while the palms remained as far apart as possible. The midday heat was still rising from the blacktop, giving the whole scene a look of otherworldly beauty, which caused him to gape until his sister's voice cut into his mind.

"You may want to close you mouth, you look rather stupid…"

Carl quickly closed his mouth and shot his sister a glare that she brushed off without even thinking about it.

"His name is Damian. He comes here everyday after school to meditate in the afternoon sun. Some of the kids around school say that he's able to talk to God, or Buddha, or whatever it is that controls the universe, and because of that they gave him the nickname of 'the twelfth grade Gandhi.' People come to him all the time for advice on things, but he supposedly only talks to those that are 'deemed worthy' though I'm not quite sure what that means. What I do know is that if you speak to him while he meditates, and he takes the time to speak back, you won't get any better advise."

She stopped talking abruptly, and Carl suddenly realized that she obviously wasn't going to tell him anymore and that must be his queue to head on over. But talking had never really been Carl's strong point, and he stared at his sister hoping for something more, and knowing that he wouldn't get it. Slowly he put one foot forward followed by the next, and soon found himself most of the way there without remembering going that far. The slim body of the other boy was getting closer, and Carl couldn't think for the life of him what he should say, and then he was right there and he had to say something.

"Umm…Hi…You probably don't know who I…"

Damian's lips seemed to move of their own accord as the words poured fourth.

"Carl Foutley, Grade 8, Age 14, Younger sibling of Ginger Foutley, good friend."

One of the boy's eyes opened to reveal a bright hazel eye that seemed to glimmer with some sort of inner force that Carl couldn't explain, and his mouth broke into a toothy grin. Carl noticed for some reason that his teeth were a brilliant white and perfectly strait, all but he left canine, which stuck out at an odd angle. Damian broke the arch that his hands were forming and waved at the table to his right, indicating that he should be seated. Damian looked up as Carl clambered onto the table and nodded in to the air. Carl only twisted his head about fast enough to barely catch a return nod from Ginger before she turned slowly and meandered back the way she had come.

Carl wanted to call out to her, tell her not to just leave him at a school he had never been to with some guy he had never met, but the words didn't seem to want to come. He suddenly came to the realization that there was a hand on his arm and turned back to the present situation.

"She will wait for you at home."

Damian spoke with a voice that seemed to impart more knowledge just words could convey and Carl suddenly found himself much more calm as he finished crawling onto the tabletop. The wood beneath him was warm and he ran his hands over it before he looked back up into a pair of calm, hazel eyes.

"What now?" Carl questioned.

"It was you that came to me, was it not?"

Damian's answer caused Carl to glance down, reddening slightly. It was true that he was the one that had come here, but after Ginger's explanation Carl reasoned he must have been waiting for an act of God or something. He tried to think quickly, to assemble a question or at least a statement that would fill the awkward silence, but Damian beat him to it.

"Something has been taken from you that was never truly yours but rather was it's own, and now you fear it lost, no?"

Carl gaped at the older boy before compiling the only thing that was running through his mind.

"She TOLD you?"

"Your sister? No, she told me nothing. I did not even know you were coming today, but that is the past and were are here to talk about the now, no?"

The Indian boy's constant questioning was beginning to annoy Carl for reasons he couldn't quite understand, but he decided to put up with it for now to see what the other may have to offer, and so, Damian continued.

"You believe something that was once yours to be taken from you by another, but the fact is that it is not yours, and nor is it theirs, for it is its own. Because of this it cannot be taken from where it wishes to be, but rather it can only be delayed. I know not what you seek, but this is what I have gathered from what little I know, am I correct?"

Carl nodded dumbly at the precision of the other's statements, and at what they implied.

"I know what the others say about me, about the fact that I speak the words of the gods. I know not, though, if that is true. All I know is that I speak from too much experience in life, and I tell you know what life has taught me. Nothing happens for no purpose, and once it has happened, it will not be forgotten easily by any party involved. Should it be in fates plan for something to occur, then it will, no matter the delays."

Here Damian grinned yet again and Carl understood why so many people would say that it was like his words came from God.

"I know you sister, and I know also that your mind is not the only clever one in your family, and from that I judge this. Something is already in the works, I would not ask if I were you, for that may cause more harm than good, but I would not worry if I were you. Instead, remember that each odd occurrence is all part of a greater plan by a good friend and look forward to the day when things go the way of Fate. Go now, I'm sure you family waits for you."

Damian shifted slightly before placing his fingers back together and bowing his head, resuming the position he had been in when Carl first arrived. Carl knew that no matter what he said the other boy would not say anymore, even though so much of it had made no sense, but it had somehow left him with a much greater hope for what may yet be. Rubbing his eyes, Carl suddenly realized just how far the sun had sunk and how long he must have been sitting there. The sky was beginning to be painted red along the horizon. Rising from the position he had obviously been in for hours, Carl stretched carefully before making his way back towards his home.

* * *

Back at the Foutley household, Ginger carefully set the three places at dinner while her mother checked the lasagna in the oven for what must have been the four hundredth time in the past five minutes. Ginger smiled to herself at her mom's obvious concern. 

"Ging, you wouldn't happen to know where Carl is, do you?"

The question wasn't so much a question as it was an accusation, and it was then that Ginger realized that her smile must have been just a bit too big.

"Maybe…" She teased.

"Well would you mind explaining it to the old worry-wart across the room?"

Lois had placed her hands on her hips in false annoyance, but couldn't help the grin beginning to play at her lips too.

"I sent him to see Damian."

Ginger's answer was curt and caused a puzzled look to cross her mother's face.

"Damian?"

"Yes, Damian. He's a boy I go to school with. He lost his parents when he was fourteen and was forced to take care of his two little brothers and his little sister until just last year when a long-lost cousin of his father was located and informed by the government of Damian's situation. The cousin came out right away to take over as head of the house. Needless to say Damian grew up rather fast in the years when he was a parent for his siblings and now he gives out better advise than anyone else I know. I figured Carl need a man to talk to, and Damian's more of a man than any full-grown man I know."

Ginger never looked at her mother while she spoke, but rather focused her attention on placing the silverware just so. Even so it wasn't hard for her to imagine the looks that must have been crossing her mother's face. The sound of the front door opening caused all chance of further conversation to be cut short as Lois turned around, muttering something like "Let's hope it helped," under her breath.

Carl entered the kitchen moments later and, to the surprise of both women already at the table, was smiling.

"Have a good talk?" Ginger questioned.

"I'm assuming so, he looks rather gay doesn't he."

The old-fashioned word for happiness had left Lois's mouth before she even realized she had said it, but before she could have a chance to apologize Carl spoke.

"Are you calling me a homosexual? Well I'm sorry to inform you, but being gay refers to two men that are also lovers and I, my lovely ladies, am a boy…"

His words hung on the air as he pulled a plate of pasta towards himself and proceeded to cover it in ketchup causing Ginger to grin, and then gag.

* * *

Courtney lay on her much too large bed when the door to her bedroom was suddenly tapped upon quite lightly. 

"Yes?" She called.

"Miss Gripling, phone for you."

Winston's voice carried through the wood of the door as she stood and strode across the room to open the door for him. As the door was pulled back into the room she caught her first glimpse of Winston in almost two days. He appeared older, more worn, and it seemed as if something was on his mind that he didn't feel like discussing quite then. In his right hand was the cordless phone. Courtney took the phone without a word, but upon receiving it gave it a questioning glance, looked over her shoulder at the clock, then covered the receiver and mouthed the word "Ginger?" Winston shock his head to indicate that she was wrong and then placed one long finger alongside his nose and whispered,

"Mums the word."

Courtney's eyes suddenly lit up with realization and Courtney Gripling, the girl of never-ending pose and stature, did the happy dance in the doorway to her bedroom before hugging Winston round the morning and placing the phone to her ear.

* * *

A/N: Sorry it took soooooooooo long to get this chapter out, but I just have so much on my plate right now with college and all that it can be hard to find time for, well, anything. But, even so, I have managed to appease myself and my readers with a new chapter and make you all hate me more for ending, yet again, with another cliff-hanger…not to mention about half a million unanswered questions…I love to make you guess at what will happen next…:-) 

MK


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